Benched
by bornonhalloween
Summary: 6th-grade teacher Edward Cullen has done his homework on coaching tee-ball. His confidence evaporates when he takes the field for his team's first practice and sees none other than Emmett McCarty, World Champion Mariners pitcher, on the sidelines. Can Edward manage his 5-year-olds, his fanboy crush, AND the arrogant asshole who insists on getting in his way at every turn?
1. Chapter 1

**BENCHED, a birthday drabble for Shell Taylor**

**~1~**

Ahhh, the glamorous life of a sixth-grade math teacher in Seattle's privileged suburbs.

Door-to-door commute: twenty-three minutes, barring extreme circumstances. Classroom time: eight to two, with lunch duty the third week of every month. Parent-teacher conferences, IEPs, in-service seminars, office hours, and weekly staff meetings. Okay, sure, check, yep, and fine.

Compulsory extracurricular coaching: fall, winter, and spring—a.k.a. _the fine print._

"I never signed up for this." My appeal fell on deaf ears.

"Oh, but you did, Edward." Rosalie Hale, Headmistress of Seven Hills Academy, wolf in a fox's clothing.

"Fine," I grumbled, "Math team, chess club, and…"

"Tee-ball."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Happy birthday, Shell Taylor! Thank you for inspiring me with your stories about kiddo's life on the tee-ball field, ranging from hilarious to tender and bringing back some wonderful and awful memories of my own kiddo's brief career as a tee-ball player. I hope your birthday is filled with all the best stuff: love, laughter, success, joy, health, peace, and friendship. I am especially grateful for the last one, especially this year.

Massive thanks to m'Ladyeire for her wildly creative mind. Whether we're collaborating on plot or banners, somehow, through a series of side-splitting misfires, we always manage to come up with something that just seems to work! You're a whiz with the pixels, V, and I couldn't ask for a more patient creative partner! DOUBLE MWAH! A special shoutout to my newish friend, Shad Masen, who found me through Shell but reached out one night to close the gap, and I am so glad you did! You were a natural choice as a pre-reader for Shell's birthday drabble, and I thank you for your insightful comments and your friendship. As I write this, I realize I've been so busy bombarding Chayasara with other things, I've neglected to run this one by her, so please don't blame her for my mistakes. As usual, they're all mine. PS- Chaya, have a few minutes to look at my other chapters? *bats eyelashes*

I plan to post a chapter a day until the story is told, but it's a busy time so I'll just promise to do my best! Also, please don't feel compelled to review every chapter. How about a deal? Hit me when something strikes you (OH, the baseball metaphors!) and I'll do the same with my replies! Just know, I do appreciate all your support and feedback. Cheers!

**XXX ~BOH**


	2. Chapter 2

**~2~**

"What the hell is tee-ball? Something having to do with golf? I tried that once, nearly decapitated the guy next to me at the driving range."

"Chill, Poindexter. We're basically talking about no-pitch wiffle ball—and they're kindergarteners. You don't keep score."

"I'm sorry, then how do you know who wins?"

Rosalie snorted. "We're all winners. The point is to teach sportsmanship and teamwork, the basic rules of America's pastime, and—if you're lucky—develop a bit of hand-eye coordination."

"Doesn't sound too difficult."

She studied me as if solving differential equations. "You do know how to play baseball, right?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thank you all for showing so much love for the story and for Shell, who has already promised to have 3 more birthdays this year! And as promised on MY end, I have read each and every review, love knowing who's here and who has awful tee-ball memories like I do, and scared a few away with slash! I apologize I wasn't able to respond to all the comments this time (also as promised!) and I'm really excited to do it all again today!

Cheers!

And by the way, have I mentioned I'm publishing a novella this week? Mmhmm...stay tuned! See you tomorrow!

**XXX ~BOH**


	3. Chapter 3

**~3~**

My love affair with baseball began Opening Day of '88, and my father deserves full credit. While other parents chased down vendors of cotton candy and giant sponge fingers, my dad unceremoniously purchased a program and a couple of ballpark franks.

He chuckled as I pumped out mounds of condiments through enormous white spouts. "Have a dog with all that relish, why don't you!" To his credit, he hung back and let me have my fun.

"Here, let me carry that for you. Your mom'll kill me if I bring you home with a big mustard stain down your front."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Have you ever walked away from those giant canisters WITHOUT a stain? Heehee. Nothing better than watching the dads with their little kids at the game.

I am a little amazed at how many of you folks don't know much about baseball and even less about tee-ball. Prepare for school! Heehee!

See you tomorrow!

**XXX ~BOH**


	4. Chapter 4

**~4~**

We found our seats and filled our bellies while the wildly colorful Mariners fans scurried around the Kingdome like bees buzzing about a hive.

When every trace of mustard was wiped away, Dad flipped through the booklet and creased open the page containing the blank grid. "This is your scorecard. See how each position is represented by a number?"

His arm closed around my shoulders as he leaned in and revealed the magical symbols, patiently explaining each one. Awed, I took the pen he offered.

"What if I make a mistake?"

He shrugged, taking me with him. "Cross it out."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> And a budding baseball fan is born.

I guess Shell thought she might meet Emmett tonight, but nope.

I thought / hoped I might have a link for my little book for you today, but Amazon is apparently running a cross check of my fingerprints or performing a colonoscopy or I don't know what...but I'm still waiting for the book to go live. Thanks for all your support...stay tuned!

**XXX ~BOH**


	5. Chapter 5

**~5~**

Much to my father's delight, I begged him to take me to the next game and the next after that.

As I grew, other aspects of the sport crowded out the appeal of statistics: the graceful extension of a throwing arm, the urgency of a sprint to first, the drama of a stolen base, the artistry of a double play, the thrill of a home run swing.

Tanned, toned torsos taunted me in their tight attire. Batting averages were abandoned for fantasies of shared post-game showers. A slap on the ass was my gateway drug, and I was a junkie.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>That alliteration was all for you, Apocalyptic and Adele! Aww, who doesn't love a good slap on the ass between teammates? I know my tennis partner loves hers! *wink*

_**Hot off the presses**-_ my novella _Take My Chances (_by Kaye P. Hallows) is now available on Amazon as ebook or paperback. This is a story a few of you may have read last year on my slash blog. It's not (and never was) a fanfiction but an original m/m erotica/romance about a man's first time with another man. Here's the blurb:

_Nick Thorstad is more than the well-sculpted slab of meat his girlfriend sees. A talented physical therapist, Nick is put to the test when marathoner Jarrett Worth sustains an injury that could take him out of the race—permanently. Unapologetically gay, Jarrett flirts relentlessly, leaving Nick increasingly aroused and confused as their sessions heat. __Nick finally summons the courage to end his miserable relationship, Jarrett offers more than friendship. Nick must decide whether he can continue to ignore his bewildering desire for the other man or take a chance on something new._

Upgraded and polished off with a gorgeous cover by Betti Gefecht, it is out and proud. ALL royalties from the sale of both ebook and hard copy will be donated to the Waltham House, a shelter for GLBTQ youth in my community. As always, I thank you all for your support in my endeavors to throw a little happy into the world!

**XXX ~BOH**


	6. Chapter 6

**~6~**

"Yes Rosalie," I answered, "I know how to play. I'm just better at spectating."

"That shouldn't be an issue. You're about two feet too tall for the tee." My balls were in her vice, and she cranked up the discomfort with a wicked smile. "Don't worry, though, I've ordered your Lumpsuckers uniform in XL Tall."

"The _lumpsucker_ is our team animal? Wait, I'm wearing a _uniform_?" Stretchy britches with knee-high socks… Jesus, I was gonna need a jock.

"Sure, school spirit breeds athletic supporters. You want that SMART board for your classroom, don't you? Woo the parents, Edward."

_Hello, leverage_.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I might have just the jock for this non-jock! Oh, me and those underwear models. I know. It's an illness.

Has anyone ever been wooed on a tee-ball field? Yeah, didn't think so. Thanks for the reviews; thanks for not writing the reviews. It's all good. :)

Thank you to all who supported my book release yesterday by sharing the news, buying the book, or just coming over to pat me on the back. It's quite a rush putting something out there and so much fun to share it with all of you!

**xxx ~BOH**


	7. Chapter 7

**~7~**

The calendar turned to spring. Despite my helpful suggestion that we rope off a square patch of the baseball diamond and host mud wrestling instead, Rosalie was adamant about sticking to the schedule.

"Someone could get hurt," I warned, "and everyone is definitely going to get muddy."

Elbow to elbow at her office window, we stared out over the saturated field. "Keep movement to a minimum."

"How'm'I supposed to do that?"

"Just do drills."

"Oh! Like multiplication drills? Yeah, that could work."

Her hands moved to her hips as she turned to face me. "Are you shitting me right now?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>He is totally shitting her. I kind of liked the idea of mud wrestling. Maybe a fic for another birhtday ... I love the 100-word drabble challenge and how it ends up creating fuckery like How'm'I :) Just want to leave a few love droplets to Lady V and Shad, my cheering squad and behind-the-scenes coaches. Love you guys! And also, Hey, Shell! Emmett's coming tomorrow! MWAH :*

**XXX ~BOH**


	8. Chapter 8

**~8~**

Clipboard in hand, I ticked off the names as my players arrived.

"Shake Coach Cullen's hand, Peter," his mom said, giving the boy's shoulder a squeeze. Each introduction was a slight variation on the theme, with the moms—mostly—delivering their sons and daughters to the field and offering them up to the tee-ball gods for sacrifice. Bree, Riley, Victoria, and Garrett—each bright, shiny face ready for this new adventure.

"Hey, man." I would've recognized his voice in my sleep; in fact, I often did.

"Emmett McCarty."

He grinned. "Yep, I am he, and this is my nephew, Sawyer."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Emmett's in DA HOUSE! I apologize for my spotty posts. Busy time of year. Thanks for your patience.

**XXX BOH**


	9. Chapter 9

**~9~**

_Yes, Slick, everyone sees you_.

How considerate of you to wear your World Series Champions jersey, flaunting number 69, in case there happened to be a freak in the crowd who hadn't recognized your trademark dimples or the talented hands that hurled 103-mph fastballs over home plate.

Arrogant is definitely not my type, but there was no denying McCarty's swagger had gotten under my skin, and I was agitated. Apparently, our headmistress was unconflicted, barreling through the crowd in her Burberry-plaid boots to throw herself at the celebrity in our midst with the laser-sharp accuracy of a world class pitcher.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Rut-roh, Coach Cullen is AGITATED. *giggles* How 'bout dat Rose? Oh dear, how can Edward hope to compete with Burberry plaid?

Spent my day in the car with my folks and finally got to where we were going. Sorry my posting has been spotty. Happy you guys are enjoying. :)

**XXX BOH**


	10. Chapter 10

**~10~**

Busy gathering muddy balls into a giant plastic tub, I couldn't overhear their conversation—and I was pretty sure it would've nauseated me if I could. Between McCarty's showboating and Rosalie's gushing, at least nobody in the crowd was watching the tragic batting drill happening on the field; for that, I was grateful.

"Okay, Sawyer, step up to the tee." This kid was a natural, and he was my only hope for establishing any sense of order.

Uncle Emmett's attention snapped to the drama at home plate, momentarily shifting off the aggressive headmistress doing her best to block his view.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Looks like a few of you were excited to meet Emmett!

**XXX ~BOH**


	11. Chapter 11

**~11~**

A shout came from the stands. "Lean into it, Soy!"

I took my eye off the ball just as the bat made contact with a hollow _Crack! _McCarty's hands were cupped around his perfect smile, his eyes alight with his nephew's triumph. "Yesss!"

_"Ooomph!"_

The stands erupted with laughter as the ball hit my belly with surprising force.

"Sorry, Coach!" the kid shouted.

I held up my hand and forced out a squeaky, "I'm okay," while the laughter died down.

Fucker was grinning like a smug fool when I ventured another peek. That's when he leaned in and hooked Rosalie.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Just to be clear, Emmett's the fucker, not the cute kid in the story!

Love your cute notes and questions. It's okay if you're confused. I'm confused too. :)

**XXX~BOH**


	12. Chapter 12

**~12~**

"You wanted to see me?"

Rosalie rounded her desk and perched on the edge. "Yes, Edward. Have a seat."

"Am I fired from coaching?"

"Ha!" Rosalie snorted—in a ladylike way. "Nice try, bucko. No, but I do have some good news for you."

"I don't have to wear the man-child costume?"

"You're killing me, Cullen."

My high hopes deflated again. "Okay, I give up. What's the good news?"

She flashed that wolfish grin of hers and answered, "I hired you an assistant."

"You mean a secretary?"

Clearly nearing her limit, she rolled her eyes. "Emmett McCarty volunteered for duty."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> A SECRETARY! heehee... (oh, crap, there's a plot bunny and a half!) ANYWAY, this was the "hooking of Rosalie" many of you were asking about yesterday. Think: fish swallowing the worm home, snagged but good on that hook.

I'm traveling again, so if you don't mind my not replying religiously, I'll just keep posting. Review if you like, but I don't mind if you don't. :) I'm having so much fun.

If you're stumped for a last minute gift for that special reader in your life, gift a recently published e-book from one of these authors you might know:  
><strong>Countdown to Ecstasy<strong> by Betti Gefecht (a revamped version of her not-really-fanfic-anyway semi-autobiographical short story called _Steamy Windows_)  
><strong>The Librarian Principle<strong> by Helena Hunting (of Clipped Wings and Inked Armor fame). This book is shooting to the top of the charts and Helena is a sweetheart.  
><strong>Whispers<strong> by E.S. Skipper now out in paperback (a gorgeous m/m story of a beautiful love that doesn't die with physical death) from my favorite Kiwi author.  
><strong>Surreal<strong> by R.E. Hargrave (book 3 of the The Divine Trilogy)  
><strong>Bad Romeo<strong> by Leisa Rayven (The Diva Diaries by KiyaRaven)

**XXX ~BOH**


	13. Chapter 13

**~13~**

I bolted up out of my seat. "_The _Emmett McCarty volunteered to help _me_ coach a kindergarten tee-ball team?"

She chuckled. "Hard to believe, but yes."

"Okay, I'll bite. Why?"

Rose shrugged, but her smug smirk said otherwise.

I couldn't pass up my rare chance at the upper hand. "No, thank you." I stood and turned toward the door.

"What?" Rosalie's palms slapped her desk so hard, the door shook in its frame. "Who in the hell do you think you are?"

Apparently, I had struck a nerve—one I was guessing was directly attached to my boss's lady parts.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: No, thank you? Heeheee. Oh, Edward, you are a complicated man!

Christmas or Christmas Eve cheers to you, depending on your time zone and frame of mind! Thank you for taking a diversion from your holidays to read my fluffy little story!

**XXX ~BOH**


	14. Chapter 14

**~14~**

"Who am I? I'm the guy you forced into taking on this team, and I'll thank you to trust me to do the job as I see fit. I don't need some hot shit ball player to tell me how to coach my kids!"

"Emmett thinks you do."

"Oh… _Emmett, _is it?"

Rosalie blushed and spilled her secret nuggets. "He doesn't feel his nephew is receiving the best possible advice."

"He _said _that?" Oh, the drama!

"Edward," Rosalie started, trying a softer approach, "why look a gift horse in the mouth?"

"You do know what happened to the Trojans, right?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> They got conquered pretty hard, but came back to build a kingdom of condoms and had the last laugh! Think Rosalie can convince her uppity teacher he might need professional help? *wink*

Hope everyone is having a nice holiday. Things are nice and quiet here, just the way we like 'em!

**XXX ~BOH**


	15. Chapter 15

**~15~**

"Peeshaw." She waved away my warning. "We're all on the same side!"

"Oh yes—the winning side, right?"

"Honestly, the guy's a saint. He turned down the stipend."

"_Stipend_?" Oh, this was rich.

"He did win the Cy Young Award."

I sneered. "So I've heard."

"What's the real problem here?"

I slumped into my chair. _This was happening_. "He's an arrogant ass. He uses foul language. I don't think he'll be a good influence on the kids."

With victory in her grasp, Rosalie grinned. "So keep him in line."

"Me?"

"You have an advanced degree in classroom management. Manage him."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Damn, it's fun to torture Edward. Emmett sounds like a real treat, huh?

**XXX ~BOH**


	16. Chapter 16

**~16~**

The fucking nerve of the ass, jogging out onto my field in his damn Mariners uniform—home team whites, no less!

"Hi, remember me?" he taunted, snapping his gum and scratching his crotch. _Does it even itch, or is that just for effect?_

"Yeah, you're Sawyer's uncle." I glared. He glared back.

"Dude, why so hostile?" he asked out of the side of his mouth, at least having the good sense to hide our disagreement from the kids lined up in front of us.

I clenched my teeth. "You couldn't have just continued to heckle me from the front row?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Why so hostile indeed, Coach Cullen? *wink* I sure do love your theories.**  
><strong>

**XXX ~BOH**


	17. Chapter 17

**~17~**

"Form a single line behind home plate and give a warm Lumpsuckers welcome to Mr. McCarty."

The five-year-olds' version of a line would've made Euclid cry, but I knew not to expect Bree to stand still—ever—or Riley to stop digging for worms.

"Put half of them in the field," Emmett said. "Let's teach someone how to catch a ball today."

"They don't know how to bat yet."

Emmett blew a bubble and smirked. "Then you damn well better teach your little lumpsuckers how to play defense." Looking past me, he tipped his cap and smiled with both dimples.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh boy, both dimples. *wink*

**XXX ~BOH**


	18. Chapter 18

**~18~**

I followed the trajectory of his twenty-six-million-dollar-a-year smile to where it collided with none other than our headmistress on the sidelines, who was busy fluttering her fingers in a gesture she must've assumed he'd find demure.

Turning my back to the crowd in case Rosalie could read lips, I chuffed. "Looks like you've got a groupie."

Without missing a beat, McCarty placed his mouth so close, his warm breath wafted across my ear. "Another one?"

Teasing me while keeping Rosalie dangling on the line—two hooked for the price of one—this guy knew damn well what he was doing.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh yes, he does. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	19. Chapter 19

**~19~**

I woke the next morning with a woody to rival my autographed Edgar Martinez game-winning bat from the '95 series against the Yanks. _Heh, a yank is exactly what I need after that dream!_ Sacrificing my morning shave was an easy decision.

Closing my eyes, I drifted back to my dream, back to the ball field, minus the kids and crowd because…gross.

_"I'm not your groupie."_

_Emmett pulled back and cocked a brow. "No?"_

_My heart sprinted. "No."_

_He leaned in again, nuzzling up my neck and lapping his tongue around the shell of my ear. "How about now?"_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This is the ONLY kind of yank this Red Sox fan endorses! Mmm, hot dreams, anyone?

Whatever your new year's plans wherever you are in the world, please be safe.

**XXX ~BOH**


	20. Chapter 20

**~20~**

Two minutes later, I was painted with spunk but slightly less frustrated—until I noticed the damn hat on the pillow beside me. "See you in your dreams," he'd taunted after practice, tossing his cap at me with a killer wink. At least I wouldn't have to endure his presence on the field again until our first game on Friday.

Traffic moved quickly, lightening my mood, which all went to hell when I pulled the note from my mail slot: _See me. Rose._ I was starting to detest these little gloat sessions with my boss.

"He's a hit," she said.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh, Rosalie, you are so proud of yourself, aren't you?

Because I haven't said it recently, thank you, Shad Masen, Ladyeire (aka V), and Chayasara for helping me plot out the story and tighten up the writing. MWAH!

And thank you to those who have left reviews and those who haven't. I love you all. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	21. Chapter 21

**~21~**

Like a lazy cat, Rosalie stretched her arms above her, folded them behind her head, and twisted side to side in her leather headmistress throne. "Are you aware yesterday's crowd was the biggest on record for a game of tee-ball here at Seven Hills?"

I pushed my clenched fists deep inside my pockets where they wouldn't get me fired or arrested. "Perhaps we can enshrine Mr. McCarty in a glass case on the pitcher's mound and keep him on permanent display."

Rosalie tsk tsked. "What a waste that would be when the man obviously has so much wisdom to impart."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Wisdom. Yep, that's why we want him around. It just occurred to me what a lazy cat might do with a lumpsucker. RUN, EDWARD, RUN! Heehee, that man is so much fun to torture.

**XXX ~BOH**


	22. Chapter 22

**~22~**

"Emmett McCarty doesn't know the first thing about coaching. He's a diva who would turn his reflective sunglasses backward and stare at himself all day if he could."

Rosalie burst out laughing. "Well, that's certainly a dim view of the man! Why would he offer his time to a group of little kids if he didn't want to help?"

_Because he was having way too much fun torturing us both._

"Honestly, Rose, I have no idea. Maybe he got sentenced to community service."

Rosalie's eyes narrowed, and she leaned forward onto her desk. "Methinks the coach doth protest too much."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>AHA! What doth thou thinketh?

**XXX ~BOH**


	23. Chapter 23

**~23~**

Taking a page from my students' repertoire, I rolled my eyes and gave my boss a giant, incriminating, "Whatever."

"Hmm, well," she said, "it doesn't actually matter what you think of him. I like him; the kids like him; the parents like him. Get used to it, Edward—Emmett McCarty is here to stay."

"Fabulous." _Calm the fuck down and stop blushing like a girl, dammit! _"Will that be all?"

Drumming her fingers on her desk, she studied me for another few long seconds. "Not quite. I want you to persuade Mr. McCarty to donate something to the silent auction."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Oh, Rose. You are so evil!

**XXX ~BOH**


	24. Chapter 24

**~24~**

I left the headmistress's office with a heaviness I couldn't shake, as if Emmett had launched one of his infamous sinker balls down my throat, and the damn thing had taken a sharp turn south in my belly. It wasn't enough to be locked in McCarty's clutches on the field; now I had to ask a favor of the man.

_Groveling must be in the fine print, too_.

The next two days passed uneventfully, but only because I was a master at compartmentalizing. The moment I saw his smug mug waiting at home plate, my stomach took a now-familiar dive.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Poor Edward. That smug mug is really getting to him. Will he make the ask? What will Emmett say? Dun dun DUNNNN! LOL!

So glad you guys are enjoying this little daily bonbon of silliness. You know the deal- reviews are totally optional, but if you want to make sure I answer, please send a PM instead. See you tomorrow!

**XXX ~BOH**


	25. Chapter 25

**~25~**

"Wassup, René?"

"What the …_who_?"

"René Descartes, famous mathematician, big thinker. Know him?" Emmett turned his head and spat out a nasty brown stream.

"Not personally, and could you please not chew that shit in front of the kids?"

The pompous ass leaned into the bat propped up in the grass, one foot crossed over the opposite ankle. "Wasn't planning to. I came early so we could chat."

Emmett McCarty wanted to chat? With _me_?

I slid my hands to the top of the clipboard, anchoring the other end to my belly. "Sure. What would you like to talk about?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> What's Emmett got on his mind this afternoon? And why does anyone chew that nasty chaw? Please tell me I'm first to call Edward René. Renee. GET IT? :)

Some of you correctly pointed out that Edward is probably not contractually obligated to ask Emmett for an auction item. I would agree. Now, I ask you this: have you ever been asked to do something at work that wasn't in your job description? Didst thou protest? *wink*

**XXX ~BOH**


	26. Chapter 26

**~26~**

"Just wondering when you're planning to take that Louisville Slugger outta your ass and lighten up."

_"Fuck you"_ was on my lips, but my boss had decided this guy was the damn Messiah, and I wasn't going to win any points by pissing him off. "What?" I pressed the clipboard farther into my solar plexus.

"You don't want me here. I get it." He plowed on, leaving me no time to deny the truth. "I'm staying, so suck it up."

He jogged to first, that perfect ass jiggling inside his blessedly tight uniform, and hawked up his wad of chaw.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Good talk! I think Eddie is going to have a big crease across his belly if he doesn't move that clipboard soon, poor fella.

Glad you guys are having fun with this (and sorry if you're frustrated for Edward!). Tomorrow, I'm going to post chapter two of _Mr. Stats and the Bingo Boinker_, my E/B story for Postapocalypticdepository (DAMN that one is hard to type!) and give _Benched_ a break for the day. See you there! As always, come talk to me on Facebook, leave a review, don't leave a review...enjoy yourselves, people. It's a crackadabble! MWAH!

**XXX ~BOH**

**PS- **Sometimes things penetrate the pumpkin shell that really should stay the heck out. For the last eleven months, I have been duped by a character using the aliases** Emmett Skipper, E. , Trent Skipper, Josh Cameron, Alex Samuels, Seth Leith, and possibly others on Facebook as well as Emmettsubmissive, authorboi, romancingtheboys (and possibly others) here on fanfiction. **In reality, all these personae belong to one middle-aged psychotic woman living in New Zealand conducting a most impressive orchestra of characters until she was revealed as a fraud on Monday.

If you purchased, reviewed, or recommended a book by E.S. Skipper on my recommendation, please accept my most humble apologies. In my zeal to support a friend, I pimped "his" writing exuberantly. My bad. I have taken down all my reviews, but I know that doesn't rebuild the trust you have placed in me. You can return ebooks on amazon (and maybe other sites as well), so please don't hold onto any of E.S. Skipper's writing on my account. Those who have already learned about the scam and offered support, I thank you. Trust me, I am just fine. Slightly embarrassed, but otherwise doing quite all right. This all might make a great story one day. :)** If I may request this, I'd like to keep this topic off my reviews for this story so I can save them and look back without this horrible situation infesting my fun! Thank you, sorry, and let's carry on!**


	27. Chapter 27

**~27~**

SUVs clogged the tiny side streets lining the field, but there wasn't a carpool in sight. Zippy sports cars deposited dads straight from work. Apparently, word of our special attraction had spread to the opposing team as well. My quick and dirty calculation figured 1.8 parents per player.

_Jesus._

Vastly multiplied, the folding chair cheering section divided into home and away crowds. Rosalie made her presence known, crossing and uncrossing her legs and waving to Emmett like a girl with her first crush. He obliged, tipping his cap, showing off his wicked grin, and cupping his crotch every few minutes.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Oh those baseball players. They just can't keep their hands away from their crotches! GAME DAY! Looks like Edward has an audience!

**XXX ~BOH**


	28. Chapter 28

**~28~**

"Victoria, you're batting first," I told the little red-haired girl. Her mother had emailed me last week, and we'd decided together that putting Victoria up first would be the best strategy to manage her blinking disorder.

"Terrible plan." I turned toward the muttered words and glared at Emmett, who'd at least had the sense to cover his mouth so only I could hear him.

"Who asked you?"

He gave me that condescending stare, waiting for me to reach the obvious conclusion that he knew everything. "You don't play your weakest batter first. Lead off with Bree. Victoria can bat second."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Rut roh. CONFLICT! Now what? Do we go with the math teacher addressing the tic or the pro pitcher addressing the game? What about Victoria and what about the team?

**XXX ~BOH**


	29. Chapter 29

**~29~**

Victoria blinked up at me again and again. Her tic was gathering force, and so was my aggravation with Hot Shot.

I crouched down in front of my player, dropping one knee into the grass. "You're up, Victoria. Swing just like we did in practice and run to first base."

She looked toward third and nodded earnestly.

I smiled and pointed down the white chalk line to first. "That way."

"Okay, coach." Sucking her upper lip between her teeth, she gave me a brave nod.

I stepped over to my world-champion pain in the ass. "Get the girl to first."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Well, of COURSE it's about the kids! This is one coach who knows what's what! Think Mr. Cy Young can get Victoria to first? Think Edward can get HIM to first?

**XXX ~BOH**


	30. Chapter 30

**~30~**

As directed by the Official Rules of the NTBA, the home team coach was charged with the responsibility of announcing the game.

"Play ball!" I yelled.

The clatter of the crowd died down, replaced by an expectant silence. All eyes were on the field, on my anxious little batter. I prayed the girl's bladder was empty. I placed the ball on the tee and scooted away from the plate.

First play of the first game of the season.

Victoria released a deep breath as her therapist must've taught her. Emmett's vibes of disapproval could have knocked me off my feet.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Who's anxious? YIKES!

**XXX ~BOH**


	31. Chapter 31

**~31~**

Victoria pinched her eyes shut and swung the bat around. As shocked as the rest of us, she stood at the plate, open-jawed and staring as the ball flew toward third.

"Run, Victoria!" Emmett yelled, waving wildly and sashaying along the chalk line with her every step of the way. "Run, run, run, tag …_yes_!"

The home crowd cheered. Amidst the excited din, my eyes were glued to the high five happening on first base. I couldn't decipher what Emmett was saying to her, but I could see Victoria's face beaming with pride, and that was enough for me.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Awww. Looks like Emmett came through, despite whatever hurt his ego was nursing. And hey, no urine trail behind the girl!

In case you're in the mood for some good old-fashioned (well, not really) E/B and don't have me on alert, I'm also posting a non-drabble romp called _Mr. Stats and the Bingo Boinker_. I update every Saturday and just posted chapter 3. Thanks for all the support!

**XXX ~BOH**


	32. Chapter 32

**~32~**

As Garrett lined up behind the tee, Emmett caught my attention and tipped his cap. The small dip of his chin was a gesture of humility I had not yet seen from him on the field. It was a tiny salute, but he may as well have fired a cannon.

My skin prickled in a way that made me wish the two of us were alone. I pressed two fingers to the bill of my cap. _I salute you, too._

"Okay, Gar, let's go!" _The dad._

Emmett hunkered down into a wide stance just past first, readying Victoria to run.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> A tender moment. *wipes tear* Taylor9901, I fully expect a comment about Emmett's cannon . . . or at least about Emmett's wide stance. Boy, did I make this one too easy for ya!

**XXX ~BOH**


	33. Chapter 33

**~33~**

The real beauty of kindergarten tee-ball is that defensive play is almost nonexistent, especially early in the season. Every kid can eventually hit something off the tee, and—barring something extraordinary—make it safely to first.

It came as no huge surprise that Sawyer hit a grand slam, driving Victoria, Garrett, and Bree around home plate. Emmett rounded the bases with him, outside the lines, cheering him all the way.

I couldn't decide which was more compelling—Emmett's graceful stride or the way his whole being lit up for his nephew.

Game Day Emmett was someone I needed more of.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Mmmmm, me too.

**XXX ~BOH**


	34. Chapter 34

**~34~**

The weekend stretched out in front of me like the glorious infinity of pi.

Saturday morning, I sat down at the kitchen table with a mug of black coffee and two stacks of quizzes to grade. The honors papers demanded my attention, but the ratios were mindless marking, and I couldn't help the mental meander back to yesterday's walk to our cars.

"So . . . you were right about Victoria," he said.

I looked over, expecting a smug grin, but found nothing of the sort. "Thanks."

"You're not a terrible coach."

I stopped dead, dumbfounded for a second. "Yeah, neither are you."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> Heehee. High praise indeed!

**XXX ~BOH**


	35. Chapter 35

**~35~**

Practice Day McCarty made his regularly scheduled appearance on Monday, and I had to admit to a sizeable pang of disappointment. I was an idiot to expect anything different, and I gave myself a good talking to at home plate while Emmett worked on fielding.

"Coach, what's 'smug bastard' mean?"

"Smug . . .? Oh, um, that was 'swung faster,' Jake. You'd have hit the ball farther if you'd have _swung faster._"

The kid gave me a dumb stare but hit the cover off the next one.

Emmett stuck out his glove and snagged the ball just before it reached Bree's nose.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>If I'd had a few more words to spare, I would've shown you the image I have of Emmett right now: arm extended out of pure reflex to catch that ball, eyes glued to Edward, mouth dropped open in surprise...and then just the tiniest hint of smile as Emmett recognizes he's getting to Edward big time. Yeah that's all cheating because I didn't write it...SUE ME!

**XXX ~BOH**


	36. Chapter 36

**~36~**

"Nice hit!"

Jacob's grin spread across both cheeks. "Thanks, Mr. McCarty."

"Might want to aim your batters a bit lower, Coach." Emmett chuckled and pitched the ball back in slow motion.

_I'll show you 'lower.'_

"Sawyer, you're up." I teed up the ball and leaned in. "Okay, see that little space between your uncle's knees? That's where I want this ball to go. Got it?"

The kid nodded, swung, and hit a line drive straight toward Mr. Major League's nuts. The ball smacked into the leather of Emmett's open glove.

Tucking the mitt into his chest, he jogged toward us.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Someone is in trouble now! And how perfectly timed is the chapter about balls? Lordy be, here in New England, that is ALL we've been hearing about since Monday morning. (And no, Emmett's nuts are not hanging down between his knees- for the record. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	37. Chapter 37

**~37~**

Sawyer's little face was painted with anxiety. "Sorry, Uncle Em."

Emmett gave his shoulder a friendly tap. "Why didn't you just say so if you didn't want cousins?" When the boy's forehead crinkled with confusion, Emmett added, "It's all good, Soy. Would've been a double at least."

Sawyer slipped to the end of the line, removing the barrier between Emmett and me. I didn't think he'd hit me in front of the kids, but his sneer was fairly terrifying. "You tell him to aim for my junk?"

"Why would I do that?"

"I noticed you didn't say 'no' just now."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I noticed that, too. *giggles*

**XXX ~BOH**


	38. Chapter 38

**~38~**

"Of _course_ not. That would be"—Dammit, I looked—"completely irresponsible and mean and …"

"Really fucking stupid," Emmett said, delivering the f-bomb directly to my inner ear before fading away again.

My hands were shaking, and I lowered the clipboard to my crotch. _The best offense is a good defense_.

The slap on the ass took me by surprise. _Whap!_ "Good talk," he said.

"If you ever touch one of my kids like that—"

"They're not the ones ogling me." He flipped up his Oakleys, gave me a thorough going-over that left every part tingling, and jogged away.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Did you also notice he didn't tell Emmett NOT to touch HIM that way again? _WHAP! _

**XXX ~BOH**


	39. Chapter 39

**~39~**

For four long days, I relived the feel of that hand on my ass.

What started as a fleeting sting blossomed in my imagination.

By all rights, the slap should have faded, not turned into a fingertips-curled-around-ass-cheek grab. And it absolutely had no business becoming an open-handed slap on a bare bottom …but who can be held responsible for what happens in the solitude of a dream or shower?

Was it my fault Emmett had unwittingly unlocked the floodgates of what I was now understanding to be decades of repressed locker room fantasies?

There could be no turning back now.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh dear. Floodgates are open. Let the harsh grip of repression loosen its hold! Baby, don't turn back now!

On another note, did anyone think I could write a m/m without a little spanking action? Heehee. SUE ME!

**XXX ~BOH**


	40. Chapter 40

**~40~**

An intricate basket-weave pattern mown into St. Agatha Academy's bright green infield sat inside a crisp, perfect, white chalk diamond. I wanted our kids to mess it up.

Also, St. A's coach was a smug weasel. "I understand you have a major league baller coaching your team. That's a direct violation of the NTA guidelines."

"He's the _assistant_ coach," I responded. "Besides, we're all winners, so who cares?"

Emmett elbowed his way in front of me. "Technically, I'm unemployed until my contract is renewed."

"When's that?" the douche asked.

For once, Emmett's smirk soothed me. "Day after our last game."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh LOOK! They might just be a united front. And what AMAZING timing on his contract, huh? *WINK* Damn, I love fanfic!

Also, I kind of really love your reviews. Honestly, don't feel like you have to, but please know I respond to each one with a huge grin on my face. Seriously, I catch myself sometimes and just acknowledge how much fun you guys are! Thank you. MWAH! Gee, you can officially get out of bed now!

**XXX ~BOH**


	41. Chapter 41

**~41~**

The afternoons warmed up as April bled into May. One of the kids got the bright idea he wanted to wear shorts, and soon they were all whining about it.

I trotted out my best school spirit. "We wear the Lumpsuckers uniform proudly, including pants!"

Emmett cleared his throat behind me and waited for me to turn around and invite him to have his say. "Today Coach Cullen and I are going to teach you how to slide into home, aren't we, Coach?"

_Of course_. Logic wins over passion any day. How had my standard protocol gotten so mixed up?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>OMG has passion gripped the good professor and locked out all rational thought? Also, why do kids always want to wear shorts?

In case you were wondering (and some have asked), you are officially past the halfway mark of the story. The full story is 79 chapters; of course, I reserve the right to add if the mood strikes. GET IT, _**STRIKES**_?

I have to admit, these days, I spend most of my free brain time writing (or reading about writing or writing about writing or talking about writing) BUT here's a fanfic that has my attention right now. It's about a 180-degree turn from this nonsense I'm writing, an E/B tale of triumph over malaise of mind and body, so switch gears for a moment and check out **_Come Back Tomorrow_ by shadow masen.** I was hooked after chapter one. **Please note the angst warning**. "Sometimes the bad things that happen in our lives put us directly in the path of the best things that will ever happen to us."

Got a fic or book to rec? Feel free to add it to your review.

*Waves hello to the reader who noted that my story of 40 100-word chapters is well over 6000 words because of my author's notes*

**XXX ~BOH**


	42. Chapter 42

**~42~**

Had I noticed the mischief behind the Oakleys, I would have realized Emmett had ulterior motives. Ever since the not-so-innocent butt slap, I'd endured weeks of barely appropriate touching. The arm thrown around my shoulder, the unnecessary hip check, the gratuitous noogie …anything to have his hands on me.

I loved it and hated it, and Emmett damn well knew it.

The only question was whether he enjoyed teasing me or Rosalie more. It hardly mattered; he owned two for the price of one as usual with Rose "taking a walk" in a fluffy blouse and miniskirt during our practice.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>ULTERIOR MOTIVES? MY EMMETT? Bah! Gratuitous, unnecessary, inappropriate touching? Well, I never!  
>Oh wait. Actually, I have. *grins*<p>

Oh, Rose. Do you have to be so damn obvious? I don't know. I think Emmett likes a more subtle, grumpy approach. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	43. Chapter 43

**~43~**

"Here's how this works," Emmett explained. "Everyone gather behind the plate, and Coach Cullen is going to be the catcher." Grinning broadly, he gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Is that comfortable for you, Coach?"

"I'm versatile," I replied, earning myself a _touché_ rise of his brows.

"Now . . . I'm the runner coming from second base—which is scoring position, but only if you're quick—and the ball is about to reach the catcher . . ."

Emmett managed to act out all the parts simultaneously, running from second, tagging third, and hurling the ball into my mitt.

"Here comes the slide!" he yelled.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh dear Lord, the slide into the catcher...can you stand it? Can Edward?

Just to clarify, Rose is not receiving the inappropriate touches and slaps on the behind.

**XXX ~BOH**


	44. Chapter 44

**~44~**

It all happened so fast. I caught the ball and stepped on the rubber pentagon just as the six-foot-one projectile slammed through home plate and knocked my feet out from under me.

His chest took the brunt of the force. Winded and disoriented, I flailed at the dust and grass until my hands met solid ground on either side of the hulk below me. My shoulders rose as my hips sank, and a terrifying gnashing of cups ensued.

_Get the fuck up!_

One look at the self-satisfied smirk on that face canceled out the apology I was about to deliver.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: CUP GNASHING! <strong>Many of you inquired. Now you know. And meanwhile...I leave you the boys, just like this until tomorrow. Enjoy! *wink*

**XXX ~BOH**


	45. Chapter 45

**~45~**

"Safe!" he called to the kids, as if the whole demonstration had gone just as he'd planned. "See how I pushed the catcher off the plate?"

I pulled my mouth into the nastiest scowl I could manage and stuck it right in front of his Oakleys. "Blow me."

"Thought you'd never ask," he said, "but I think you better stop poking me with that thing until I can get you somewhere more romantic."

Leaving the arrogant bastard lying in the dirt, I stood and dusted off my knickers. Emmett didn't miss a beat, hopping up to finish delivering his lesson.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>The birthday girl (Remember, Shell?) suggested that since my team won the Super Bowl last night, I should post an extra chapter to celebrate, so here you have it. Okay, that poking bit is my favorite line of the story. (aka- it's all a downhill slide from here!)

**XXX ~BOH**


	46. Chapter 46

**~46~**

We dismissed the grass-stained team, enduring comments about laundry and compromised ACLs. Emmett high-fived the last Lumpsucker to straggle off the field while I stuffed home plate into the mesh bag.

What I wanted to do was punch Emmett in the face; what I _needed_ to do was suck up and beg for bling. The auction was in three weeks, and Rose was up my ass on a daily basis.

Speaking of asses, mine hurt. Sliding sucked equally from both angles, but Emmett wasn't rubbing his ass, and I wasn't about to rub mine.

"I need to ask you something."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Your reviews are awesome.

A few of you seem to be looking for a spanking. You can find THAT kind of thing over at my Kinkily Ever After blog...take your pick from the OUAD/KEA/RM trilogy of E/B or m/m (That's Marcus and Dane): **bohkinkilyeverafter . blogspot p/about . html **...but don't blame me if it gets too hot over there for ya. *wink*

**XXX ~BOH**


	47. Chapter 47

**~47~**

"Auction, huh? Is this one of those kinky deals where the suburban housewives get all stupid on Cosmos and bid on shirtless beefcakes?"

The image brought with it a taste of bile. "What if it is?"

Emmett shrugged. "I don't really mind the looking, and God knows I'm used to being bought and sold . . . but I don't think my boyfriend would much appreciate some random lady putting her hands all over my body."

I may have blushed. "For crying out loud, it's an elementary school. I'm sure they'll keep it clean."

Emmett chuckled darkly. "Uh, have you met your boss?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Okay, have at it. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	48. Chapter 48

**~48~**

"Seriously, if you could donate a signed jersey or cap, that would be great." I wanted this conversation over—now. I hated currying favors.

As usual, Emmett took the opportunity to dangle his catnip in front of my whiskers. "How much do you think my jock would go for?"

"Oh, probably about . . . nothing!"

He elbowed me in the side a couple times. "Aww, c'mon. Aren't you gonna be there? I know you'd bid at least a buck for it. You could put it on your bed next to my cap."

"That makes a lovely mental picture. Thank you so much."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Doesn't it though? Yes, Emmett is the endless romantic, isn't he? I may have posted a picture of that jock in my FB patch, so you could have a REALLY good mental picture of it. *wink*

**XXX ~BOH**


	49. Chapter 49

**~49~**

"Okay, Lumpsuckers, now this is our last practice of the season. I want to see everyone focused and—Riley, leave that grasshopper alone!—as I was saying . . ."

Emmett sniggered, muffling his outburst behind his mitt when I scowled at him.

I'd endured just about enough of his mocking. I threw the ball at Emmett's head, and his glove whipped around and snapped the ball inside. "You rang?"

My voice was shaking. "You got something to say to the team?"

Emmett pulled the ball from his mitt and thrust it back in, over and over, while he measured his response.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Looks like the coach just gave free rein to the loose cannon! Rut roh!

_This is yesterday's chapter, but fanfic was down, so I'm posting 50 as well._ I want to thank you for the emotive responses to the previous chapter. I love that you guys have really been engaging with this story on a daily basis in such a meaningful way. I always appreciate when people recognize there's more to the "little crackfic drabble" than meets the eye. MWAH!

**XXX ~BOH**


	50. Chapter 50

**~50~**

He chucked the ball into his mitt a few more times before speaking. "We need a spirit cheer."

_That's your big, major league idea?_

"A spirit cheer?"

"Yeah." Emmett tossed down his glove and walked toward the kids. "Everyone form a tight circle and stick your right hand in the middle . . . other right hand, Bree."

The kids hopped to it; twelve little hands stacked up, and twelve eager faces lifted to the god in our midst for further inspiration.

"You too, Coach," Emmett said.

My hand was twice as big as the one below, but Emmett's fit perfectly on top.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Awww, they're kind of holding hands-ish. :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	51. Chapter 51

**~51~**

_He did not just tickle your knuckle._

Emmett's deadpan gave away nothing. "Now all we need is a chant. What would a lumpsucker do better than anyone else?"

With pure innocence plastered on his face, Sawyer yelled out what he was sure was the right answer. "Suck lumps!"

I caught Emmett's grin as I bit back my own. _Manage this one, Mr. Know-it-all._

"I got it! Repeat after me…"

There was no mistaking it this time; _that_ was a brush of Emmett's thumb and a definite squeeze.

"How many lumps would a lumpsucker suck if a lumpsucker could suck lumps?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Come on, it's an epic cheer. *grins* Tickling, brushing, and squeezing...maybe that's more than "ish"?

**XXX ~BOH**


	52. Chapter 52

**~52~**

I waited until we were alone before laying into him. "Jesus, Emmett, what were you thinking?"

"I'm not the one who picked your team animal; I'm just trying to make the best of it."

"By having the kids chant about sucking lumps?"

He trapped my neck with his elbow and tugged me in. "You love sucking lumps. I think we should all cheer about it."

I threw his arm off me. "I'm being serious. This is beyond inappropriate."

"It's the last game. What's the worst that can happen?"

"For starters, I could get fired."

"I'll intercede with Rose. No worries."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>You know when "What's the worst that can happen?" comes out . . . just sayin'. Foreshadowing 101. LOL

**XXX ~BOH**


	53. Chapter 53

**~53~**

"Make up a new chant. We'll teach the kids Friday."

"They like the lumpsucker thing."

"I'm still in charge of this team, McCarty."

Emmett planted his hands on his hips. "You think we're in first place because of your sage batting advice?"

Hurt, I lashed out. "There is no first place."

"Oh, okay. We haven't clobbered every team we've played?"

"That's not the point!"

"It's a game," Emmett said. "The point is winning. End of story."

I hated how angry he was making me. "How nice for you. Everything black and white."

"Yes, and you're a lovely shade of red."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh no! Creative differences! Can we work it out, boys?

**XXX ~BOH**


	54. Chapter 54

**~54~**

The words tumbled out before I could think. "I'll see you back here on Friday."

Emmett clenched his jaw so hard, I could see the bones popping at the side of his cheek. "Wouldn't miss it."

I didn't think I could feel any lousier, but bumping into Rose in the parking lot proved me wrong. "Nice job securing that ball from Emmett."

"What ball?"

"He didn't tell you? Huh, I thought you guys were tight."

She was itching for a fight, and I wouldn't give her the satisfaction. "Nope."

"He donated a ball signed by every player on the Mariners."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>What a GUY! Aww, but poor Eddie having to answer no to that question. :(

**XXX ~BOH**


	55. Chapter 55

**~55~**

Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday plodded along like a car with three flat tires. Friday, I was short with my students. That wasn't like me, and I wasn't a fan of this out-of-control version of myself.

I dressed for the game, tightening my belt over the lead ball sitting in my belly. Emmett was usually here by now. Was he not going to show?

From day one, I had fought his presence on the field. Now that it seemed he'd finally taken the hint, I realized exactly how badly I wanted him there.

As game time approached, need swelled inside me.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>I really love the emotions you people are expressing in your reviews. MWAH!

**XXX ~BOH**


	56. Chapter 56

**~56~**

The kids were as restless as I was, craning tiny necks and asking every two seconds where Coach McCarty was. When Sawyer arrived with his father, the last drop of hope drained out of me.

"Okay, team, gather 'round. Today's game is our last chance to bring honor to the Lumpsucker uniform." The few kids who were paying attention at all blinked up at me with total indifference. "Let's go out there and—"

"Coach Cullen?"

"Yes, Sawyer?"

"Can we please do our cheer?"

"Yeah, can we? Please?" The rest chimed in, lifting their hopeful little chins to the sky.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Oh God, not hopeful chins! What's Coach gonna do now?

If anyone is interested in the BOH behind the story, you can check out this interview by A Different Forest, which posted yesterday. My understanding is you can read the interview but can't leave a comment unless you have an account. **(www dot) ****adifferentforest (dot net slash) Campfires/30673**

**XXX ~BOH**


	57. Chapter 57

**~57~**

Fully engaged now, the kids wriggled into a tight circle, thrust their little hands into the middle, and waited for me to start things off.

_Fuck! Why had I left it to Emmett to come up with our backup chant?_

"Um . . . okay, repeat after me: What are we gonna do tonight?"

"What are we gonna do tonight?" they chanted.

_Whap!_

I jumped at the force of Emmett's hand on my ass. This time, I wasn't imagining the overzealous squeeze at the end. An unwelcome stirring inside my plastic cup mirrored the twitch in my heart.

"I got this," he said.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Boy, that Emmett really loves to slap him around, huh? But wait, we're missing the point! Emmett came! :)

**XXX ~BOH**


	58. Chapter 58

**~58~**

"Stick your hand in there," he said.

I shook my head just to be a pain in his ass. "You first."

"You want to be on top this time?" More amused than bothered, Emmett raised his eyebrows, smiled, and gave my ass another swat and pinch before reaching into the middle. "I'm versatile, too."

Stunned and distracted by images of Emmett writhing beneath me, I failed to react when he leaned forward, whispering instructions to the kids.

"Ready, guys?" Emmett grinned and led the chant. "2-4-6-8, who do we appreciate?"

"Coach Cullen!" they screamed, coloring my cheeks with a blush.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So the pitcher can catch! :) And hey, how sweet was that cheer?

**XXX ~BOH**


	59. Chapter 59

**~59~**

"Where were you?" Whiny and needy, the ugliest dwarves, made an uninvited entrance.

For once, Emmett let it roll off without commenting. "Your boss nabbed me." His eye roll made me chuckle. "Wanted to thank me _perrrrrsonally _for the autographed ball."

"Oh . . . sorry?"

"Never mind that; we have a game to win."

"To _play,_" I reminded him. "We are all—"

"Mmhmm, yep. What's the lineup?"

"Victoria first, followed by Sawyer, Bree, and Riley."

"I like it."

His compliment burrowed inside me and made itself at home.

"Hey, Edward, you knew I'd be here, right?"

My heart lurched. "Of course."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>And what about you? You knew he'd be there, right?

**XXX ~BOH**


	60. Chapter 60

**~60~**

"Okay, Victoria, you know the drill."

My lead-off batter nodded bravely, stepped up to the tee, and hit a weak but effective grounder that rolled a few feet and stopped shy of the mound. While the fielders scrambled and collided, Emmett yelled and jumped along the sidelines, coaxing Victoria to first.

Emmett prepped his runner for the next play, reminding Victoria to take a two-step lead, vigilantly observing Sawyer at the plate. Emmett could've closed his eyes and recast the field perfectly from memory.

There was something undeniably hot about the pro baller in his element—the kindergarten version anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> There's really nothing quite as much fun as watching the fielding at a tee-ball game. Okay, maybe watching these two spar would be more fun.

**XXX ~BOH**


	61. Chapter 61

**~61~**

"A single puts our man in scoring position, Sawyer. Let's not overreach."

"Okay, Coach."

Sawyer smacked the ball toward third base. Victoria ran to second while Emmett waved Sawyer to first, tracking the ball as it hopped into left field.

Victoria tagged at second, a huge triumphant smile lighting up her face across the diamond. She'd come such a long way since March.

"Go to third!" Emmett shouted. "Run, Victoria!"

Pride gave way to panic as Victoria watched Sawyer barrel toward second. _What the fuck was Emmett doing to my kids? _

"GO BACK, SAWYER! STICK AT SECOND, VICTORIA!" I yelled.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Sigh. Just when we thought maybe he was redeemed.

I apologize for not getting to your reviews yesterday. It was book group day, and I was getting through a 530-page behemoth- SO WORTH IT. If you haven't read _All the Light We Cannot See_, I highly recommend it.

**XXX ~BOH**


	62. Chapter 62

**~62~**

Three heads swiveled to home plate, where the apparently insane sixth-grade math teacher was overruling world champion, Cy Young award-winning pitcher, Emmett fucking McCarty.

Two very confused kids hugged second base for all they were worth. I waved furiously at Sawyer, but he held tight to the bag. "Tell him to go back!"

Emmett grabbed his head and looked on helplessly as the shortstop tagged out Sawyer. The poor kid took it hard, kicking the dirt, tossing down his cap, and scowling at Victoria.

Emmett tapped his nephew's elbow, called "Time out," and jogged to home plate with the boy.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Rut roh.

**XXX ~BOH**


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